They're Worse than Evil Unicorns
by broadwaypants
Summary: Kurt and Jesse wanted their wedding to be nice and quiet, but they got exactly the opposite when the Westboro Baptist Church showed up to protest. Cue their friends and family showing the WBC exactly how that makes them feel. Strong T for language.


The wedding went from a small, private affair to the most publicized wedding in the history of the world in five days.

* * *

Day 1:

The invitations came in thick envelopes with glossy blue lining inside them. Each envelope had been hand-addressed by Kurt's assistant, who had a flair for penmanship, and double-checked by Kurt himself to make sure nothing was spelled wrong. Kurt had designed the invitations himself because what sane fashion designer is going to let someone else design something so important?

Jesse had helped pick out the colors.

_Kurt Hummel and Jesse St. James request your presence at the celebration of their union._

Simple and to the point. The dates and address and RSVP instructions followed and a self-addressed envelope with a meal choice card were enclosed. It was all so very normal, considering that it was the marriage of Kurt Hummel and Jesse St. James, two of the most successful openly gay men in the state of California.

* * *

Day 2:

People talk. A lot.

Kurt and Jesse had agreed that they were not going to make this a big thing. They didn't want to invite all of their kind-of-sort-of friends like the girl Jesse had acted opposite in that last film or the man that operated the elevator in Kurt's old office building. They wanted it to be small and intimate with just their closest friends and family.

But when you're Kurt and Jesse, you start to realize that you have a lot of close friends. Kurt had insisted that they invite all eleven members of New Directions, plus Mr. Schuester and "a guest," since he didn't know if Mr. Schue had remarried or not. That meant that Jesse invited all of Vocal Adrenaline, because even though he admitted they weren't the nicest bunch, they had been his family for four years.

As it turned out, they both had large families. While Jesse was an only child, his father had had five siblings, all of who had families of their own, and that was just on the St. James side. Kurt had the entire Hummel clan plus all of Finn's relatives, because they had basically become family after Burt and Carole's marriage. And they couldn't even consider "forgetting" about Jesse's weird cousin Tim or Kurt's still slightly homophobic Aunt Phoebe, because they knew it would cause nothing but trouble.

So much for not making it a big thing.

But they kept it as small as possible, considering their large families and even larger bases of friends and thought they'd done really well when they looked over the final guest list.

People still talked. Their wedding became the hot topic in their hometowns, getting a tiny notice in Lima's newspaper and a full-page announcement in Jesse's hometown.

* * *

Day 3:

Brittany called Kurt's work phone. Kurt's receptionist picked up, and the news officially reached Hollywood.

* * *

Day 4:

Kurt had to practically wade through the mail the next day. His phone wouldn't stop buzzing and his facebook fanpage was clogged with congratulatory notices. Jesse had it even worse, because he was the bigger name of the two of them. He was getting packages and everywhere he went people were yelling and screaming and trying to congratulate him.

They started getting calls from different television networks wanting to interview the pair of them. Magazines wanted to publish "their story" and wanted to come to the wedding so they could take pictures. It seemed like everyone who lived in the general area and called themselves a fan of one or both had camped outside their house, camera in hand.

Kurt didn't understand the big deal. Weddings happened all the time, and two men getting married wasn't illegal or unusual anymore. But regardless of the draw, they became the hot new topic for gossip overnight.

(The Single Ladies video Kurt had made in tenth grade and had never posted on any website ever had even found its way onto youtube and became viral overnight.)

* * *

Day 5:

"So it's official. All of my crazies are planning to camp out the night before the wedding and watch through the windows during the actual ceremony," Jesse said, flopping down on the sofa next to Kurt. "And we've made it onto E!'s top ten list of exciting happenings or whatever it's called."

"Wonderful," Kurt shifted his position so he could lean on his fiancée. "I always wondered what being famous would be like, but I never thought I'd miss the anonymity that came with living in Lima."

"It's not too late to run away to Vegas and just get the whole thing over with," Jesse teased.

"You promised me a classy wedding, Jesse St. James," Kurt reminded him, poking him where he knew it tickled. "I don't care who shows up the day of, as long as I get that classy wedding."

"And as long as you're marrying me," Jesse finished for him, pressing a kiss to Kurt's forehead.

"I thought that went without saying," Kurt snuggled in a little closer.

* * *

On the day of the wedding, Kurt felt anything but classy.

They had chosen a nice hotel for both the actual wedding and the reception. Everything had been set up exactly as they had requested, right down to red rosebuds – not fully bloomed roses – Kurt had insisted were necessary at every table.

But as he sat by the window in his white tuxedo, looking down at the rest of the world, he felt humiliated.

Jesse's crazies had shown up, all right, but they were the least of his worries. Most of them were holding signs congratulating Jesse, not him, but none of them were holding any signs to attack him.

That particular group was standing on the nearest street corner, holding brightly colored signs that had slogans such as, "God hates fags" written on them. One of these signs had Jesse's face on it and there was another with his face on it. The people holding the signs were screaming about how he and Jesse were going to Hell and how their friends and family were going to Hell and how everyone else here was going to Hell too.

And even though it was Kurt's special day and he had said that he didn't care who showed up, it was starting to really hurt.

"Kurt?"

"Hey, lady," he said softly, turning to see Mercedes smiling at him. She was wearing an absolutely stunning dress that Kurt had designed specially for her, but he couldn't bring himself to comment on it.

"You saw them too?" she knew exactly what he was looking at. Mercedes shook her head, saying, "I wanted to rip them a new one when I first got here. Nobody spoils my boy's special day."

Kurt gave a dry laugh. "It's like we're back in Lima."

"It kind of is," Mercedes agreed, "but you need to snap out of this funk. All your friends and family are here to support you and Jesse. I get that it's no fun watching a bunch of assholes wave around some stupid signs, but you've got to know that the rest of the world is on your side. Hell, the KKK even made a point of saying they're not connected to these fuckers."

"Seriously?" Kurt raised an eyebrow.

"Dead serious," Mercedes grinned. "You know it's bad when the KKK feel the need to say something."

Kurt looked back out the window and a frown crossed his face. "Is that… Rachel?"

* * *

Rachel was furious.

It had been bad enough when the Westboro Baptist Church had shown up to protest her protest against NOM back in high school. She'd let it slide when they'd picketed the opening night of her Broadway debut. She'd hurled some insults when they marched on Columbus's town hall protesting Ohio's decision to legalize gay marriage, but hadn't let it bother her too much.

But this was too much. Kurt had become one of her best friends and biggest fans after high school, and she and Jesse had shared something once, regardless of the fact that he had egged her when it was over. They were practically family, and she was not about to let the WBC spoil their big day.

"Hello again," she said curtly, marching up to their street corner and standing there stubbornly with her hands on her hips. "How's life? I see you haven't changed your tactics or updated your vocabulary for at least ten years." Her eyes fell on the sign that showed Jesse's face. "Now, really, that doesn't even look like him. You could have at least pretended you're not re-using the sign from when you protested the opening of _Taking Woodstock_. Jonathan Groff and Jesse St. James are not the same person, you know."

The chanting of "God hates fags" and "Repent your sins" didn't even slow down.

"By the way," Rachel continued, looking one of the protestors in the eye, which did shut him up, "I just wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. I don't have him with me right now, but I always keep a picture of him in my purse." She dug out the picture of herself with her Tony Award, brandishing it like a sword. "This is Tony. I won him showing my breasts and having faux-sex with Jesse onstage eight times a week."

The man she was speaking to turned purple.

"And don't even try to pretend that the image doesn't turn you on," Rachel said evilly, her eyes narrowing. She smiled coyly, giving him a once-over that lingered pointedly at his crotch for a few seconds longer than necessary.

"This is me," she pointed to herself, "being more successful than you will ever be in your entire life. And this is also me wearing a thong."

She turned around and lifted up her skirt.

* * *

"Oh my God, what is she doing?" Kurt's hands flew to his mouth. "Did she just flash that man?"

"That's certainly not the same Rachel Berry we went to high school with," Mercedes was laughing. "Girl knows how to cause a real scene now. I'm gonna go congratulate her."

"Tell her thanks from me," Kurt waved as Mercedes headed towards the door. He turned back towards the window, watching Rachel strut away from the WBC, some of whom were shaking their fists at her. He could practically feel how proud of herself she had to be, and he had to admit that he was proud of her too. He had no idea what she had said, but it seemed to have worked them up.

But then again, working up the Westboro Baptist Church is never a good idea, because then they start shouting louder. Kurt sighed heavily, watching as their entire group seemed to collectively draw breath and start screaming. It really was incredible, the drive these people had. In a way, he almost felt sorry for them because they were so misguided.

Those sorry feelings lasted about five seconds, because one of the older members caught sight of him in the window, pointed him out, and suddenly everyone was looking at him. Great.

Kurt left his post at the window, not wanting to watch anymore.

* * *

Tina and Artie had arrived just as the WBC had caught sight of Kurt. They had followed the pointing and the direction of the shouting and had seen the disheartened look on Kurt's face before he turned away. When he disappeared from the window, a cheer went up among the group. They were obviously proud of themselves for upsetting him.

Artie disappeared from Tina's side in a matter of seconds. She looked around wildly for him, spotting him heading towards the WBC. This couldn't end well.

"Excuse me, excuse me, handicapable man coming through," he shouted, making his presence known. "Come on, everyone, it's crowded and I need to get places!"

Slowly, the WBC made a pathway for him through their protest. Artie wheeled through it, hands slipping and making him run into one woman's knees.

"Oh, sorry!" he said hastily. "I'm so sorry, big crowds just make me nervous."

He was such a liar. Tina couldn't help but snigger as Artie continued through the crowd, "accidentally" banging into a few more people. She lost sight of him for a few minutes, so she walked around to the other side of the group, knowing he'd be coming out there eventually.

When he did come out, he had one little kid sitting on his lap and another hanging onto the back of his wheelchair. Both were shrieking with glee as he sped down the sidewalk. Both little kids were wearing those stupid colorful shirts that promoted the WBC's website, and that was too much for Tina. She looked down at her own slightly swollen belly, running a hand over it lightly. Children shouldn't be raised somewhere so hateful.

"This is better than protesting something you don't understand, right?" Artie was yelling over the kids' laughter, and both of them exclaimed an excited, "Yeah!" Unfortunately, their parents seemed to have caught on and were running after Artie.

He handled himself extremely well, which made Tina feel very proud.

"Sorry, sorry," he repeated his earlier apology. "I wasn't trying to steal your kids, I promise. They just looked a little tired of holding signs, so I offered them a ride. I was gonna bring them back, promise."

"You're lucky we're not pressing charges," one of the mothers said, grabbing both children by the wrists and starting to back away with them.

"Oh, come on, it was just a bit of fun," Artie was shaking his head. "From the looks on your kids' faces, they could use it."

"Our children are perfectly happy," the woman countered.

"Right, that's why they all look confused and can't tell you what their signs mean," Artie shot back, and Tina came over to stand at his side. Ever since she had gotten pregnant, Artie had gone all superdad on every child they saw.

"They are taking part in the church community at an early age," the woman clearly wasn't going to let things lie. "We're promoting a sense of unity and family that glorifies God's message to all."

"I'm pretty sure your dictionary and your Bible are on LSD," Artie said in such a serious voice that it made Tina laugh.

* * *

"Uncle Kurt!"

"Bethie!" Kurt scooped the girl up in his arms, squeezing her tightly. "Look at you, princess! I think you grew again!"

"Of course I did, Uncle Kurt," Beth told him solemnly. "I'm ten now."

"Ten?" Kurt looked over at Puck and Quinn, who were both positively beaming. "Did I miss another birthday?"

"You were busy," Quinn waved it away as Beth started playing with the flower pinned to Kurt's jacket. "You and Jesse had just announced the engagement."

"No excuse," Kurt decided, looking back at Beth and bumping noses with the girl. "Once Jesse and I are all married and back from wherever he's taking me, we'll do something special. Hold me to it, Bethie."

"Pinky promise," she held out her little finger, and Kurt hooked his own around it.

"Where's Uncle Jesse?" Beth asked when Kurt put her back down. "I want to tell him about the dream I had last night."

"And what dream would that be?" Kurt asked, bending down so he was at eye level with her. Her cheeks turned pink, and she admitted, "I dreamed Uncle Jesse was a prince who saved you from the evil unicorns."

"Evil unicorns, huh?" Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Remind me to stay away from them. And I think Jesse said his family was meeting somewhere over there, if you want to go exploring," he waved to the right, where a sizeable crowd was already forming.

"I'll go with her." Quinn took Beth's hand, leading her off in that direction.

"You've got worse than evil unicorns outside," Puck told him after Quinn and Beth had left. "Those Westboro fuckers decided to show up."

"I've noticed," Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Want me to take 'em out?" Puck flexed for him, holding out his arm expectantly. "Seriously, my arms are even more badass now."

"That's lovely, Noah," Kurt allowed himself a small squeeze, feeling just how solid those arms really were, "but no thanks. I don't want anyone to get arrested."

"Come on, it's no fun if the cops don't show up," Puck insisted, but Kurt shook his head.

"I'm surprised they didn't try to get Rachel arrested for indecent exposure or something. She decided to flash the lot of them earlier."

"And I missed it?" Puck's eyes widened.

"Noah," Kurt's voice was stern. "You're _married._"

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate the scenery," Puck grinned.

"Quinn is a saint," Kurt decided. "You behave, all right? And thanks for coming."

* * *

"Attention, Westboro Baptist Church!"

Will cringed at the sound of the familiar voice, amplified no doubt because Sue Sylvester cannot go anywhere without that godforsaken bullhorn. He really didn't want to see where this was going.

"Excuse me!" Will rounded the corner, recognizing the colorful signs instantly. "I am Sue Sylvester, and you will listen while I am speaking!" His hand went to mouth, stifling a laugh when the cheerleading coach herself came into focus. She was wearing a black tracksuit. Of course.

"Thank you," the noise had died down a little, and Sue continued speaking. "As you know, I am internationally ranked cheerleading coach Sue Sylvester, and you lot would do well to listen to me. And not just because I can set my bullhorn to a frequency that will render your eardrums to slush that I will suck out with a straw."

There were a couple scattered laughs.

"Now, Westboro Baptist Church, I have something to say to you. As I'm sure you're aware, Sue Sylvester hates a lot of things, one of these things being sneaky gays. Your efforts to out entire churches or the mourning families of dead soldiers, while being valiant efforts, have failed for one reason. Fear.

"Nobody fears you. I mean, look at you! Those signs look like a rainbow had a miscarriage all over them. You're not particularly threatening-looking, either. I doubt any one of you would be able to pass a physical education course in a decent public high school, which is probably why you've chosen to home school your entire clan. Wouldn't want little Timmy here to run the slowest mile and always be 'it' during tag at recess.

"Well, let me tell you something. You're a disgrace and nothing but a scar of the human race. You're a complete laughingstock and none of your messages make sense. Because yes, Sue Sylvester has done her research. You preach that sexual sin is a bad thing, so why does anyone in your church get married? Are you exempt from the rule? Well, Westboro Baptist Church children, let me tell you something. Those sounds you hear at night aren't the Devil hiding under your bed. That's Mommy and Daddy doing the nasty. They're passing along the sexually transmitted disease known as 'pregnancy,' which brought you into existence.

"Sex is bad and children are a disease," Sue decided. "And you know what, homosexuality prevents this particular disease, so you should be thanking these lovely people for not engaging in such activities that will infect those around them."

Will was practically doubled-over laughing.

"Now, I'm going to give you all a piece of advice. If you want to make something of your life, then you need to leave and go to this address." She handed one of them something that looked like a business card. "I've recently started a school for retired cheerleaders that trains them in the art of becoming a fully-realized ninja, and we need dummies for target practice. I feel as if you would be perfectly suited for that job."

* * *

"Kurt, did you invite your crazy cheerleading coach?" Jesse seized his fiancée by the arm, pulling him away from his Aunt Mildred and over to an empty corner.

"What?" Kurt was surprised. "No, I didn't." His face paled. "She's here, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Jesse jerked his head towards the entrance of the building. "She just finished a tirade on the Westboro idiots with a bullhorn and now she's arguing with the guy checking names off the list."

"Fuck," Kurt swore between clenched teeth. "I should have invited her. I'm an idiot, of _course_ she'd show up regardless." He grimaced, saying, "Damage control time. Be back in a bit."

He walked over to the front of the room, immediately spotting Coach Sylvester wearing a black tracksuit and carrying her bullhorn. She had a flower pinned to her jacket and a pearl necklace around her neck. She was even wearing nice shoes, Kurt noticed.

"Ms. Sylvester," he greeted her with a tight-lipped smile. "How are you?"

"Save it, Ladyface," Sue pointed a finger at him, almost poking him in the eye. "How come this idiot won't let me in?"

"Sorry about that," Kurt took the list from the other man, pretending to look it over. "I'm guessing for whatever reason we didn't get your RSVP. But here you are," he pointed to the bottom of the page, which was blank. "Go on in."

"Thought so," Sue grinned, spotting Santana and heading over to her, no doubt to brag about the fact that Santana's new coaching job wasn't nearly as good as hers.

"Try to subtly ask her what she wants to eat later, okay?" Kurt handed the list back, patting the man on the shoulder.

* * *

"So what happened to the Rachel Berry that swore she'd never do nudity?" Mercedes was teasing, sitting on a bench outside with Rachel.

"She grew up and got over being a prude," Rachel grinned. "The offered paycheck didn't hurt either. Besides," she tossed her hair, "it was classy nudity."

"I was at opening night with Kurt, remember?" Mercedes laughed. "I know it was classy." Rachel beamed at her.

"Hey, girls," Carole Hudson, who looked rather exasperated, sat down beside Mercedes. "Sorry for barging in on your conversation, but I need to take a second to calm down."

"What's wrong?" Rachel asked immediately.

"Oh, the usual," Carole waved her hand dismissively. "Inside is a complete madhouse and I'm failing dismally at keeping Burt calm, while outside is even worse with those idiotic protestors."

"You should'a seen Rachel ripping 'em a new one," Mercedes grinned.

"I'm about to do just that in about five seconds," Carole put a hand on her forehead. "Honestly, those people make me sick."

"Join the club," Rachel said darkly.

The three of them fell into silence. In the absence of conversation, the WBC's yelling seemed to be even louder. Mercedes spared a glance their way, frowning when one of them caught sight of her. He nudged the man next to him, and before she knew what was going on, they were walking their way.

"Here comes trouble," she warned the other two, who hadn't spotted the two men.

"Great," Carole groaned, stretching out the word. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily.

"Nobody touch them," Rachel advised. "They'll press charges if you so much as poke them. Trust me; I'm speaking from experience."

"You're the mother, aren't you?" the first man shouted as they approached. "How's it feel knowing your son's going to burn in Hell for all eternity as punishment for his sins?"

"Sodomy should be punishable by death!" the other shouted, brandishing his sign.

"People like you are the reason our world's youth is so misguided!" the first added.

Mercedes could feel Carole tensing beside her. The older woman sprang up, fists clenched and a very ugly expression on her face.

"Go away," was all she said, but the obvious anger in her voice was enough to tell them she meant business if they refused.

And, of course, they refused. "Don't try to push away the message of God's wrath!"

"You know what, no!" Mercedes jumped up as well. "You all just need to chill the fuck out and go back to wherever you all came from. Which, from the looks of you, is some underground cave that doesn't understand acceptance and love."

"How dare you call yourselves followers of the same God millions of Christians worship," Carole started as Mercedes stopped speaking. "He is looking down on you and cringing with shame on your behalf. No God that loves His people that much would ever want His followers to cause such pain."

"The Bible says to love your neighbor!" Mercedes pointed out. "Did you scratch that part out, or something?"

"No, they're just picking and choosing," Carole answered for them. "They're so caught up in their holier-than-thou attitude and their desire to cause pain and suffering that they've forgotten the true message Christians are called to spread. They've bastardized the word of God."

"Yeah, so who's going to Hell now?" Mercedes shot at the two men angrily.

"Leave my son alone," Carole pointed back to where the rest of the WBC were still congregated. "He is so much kinder and much more admirable than any of you could ever hope to be. Jesse is lucky to have someone like him, and I pity you for not being able to see and understand that."

"You'll never know love," Mercedes was shaking her head. "None of you ever will, and that's a shame. Love is beautiful and friendship is beautiful, and you'll never know it outside your little group. That's not life."

"That's just sad," Carole laid a hand on Mercedes' arm and gestured for Rachel to join them. "Come on, girls, let's go back inside. They're not worth our time."

* * *

When Puck had realized that Rachel was still outside and that two men from the Westboro Baptist Church were headed for her, he had followed in the hopes of getting a peek at her underwear. While he was a little disappointed that there was no more flashing, he had to admit that Carole and Mercedes did a damn good job in their verbal sparring match.

He passed Finn on his way back inside.

"Dude, your mom's badass," he informed the other man, who looked confused.

"What happened?"

"She totally laid the verbal smackdown on those Westboro fuckers," Puck grinned. "It's a madhouse out there. Did you hear about how Rachel flashed someone?"

"She didn't," Finn's eyes widened.

"She did!" Puck said. "And I think Artie ran someone over or something."

"This is better than TV," Finn craned his neck, looking over at the WBC. "I mean, it's terrible that they're trying to ruin Kurt's wedding, but still."

"Let's go see who's yelling at them now," Puck headed back over across the street, Finn following. They recognized Matt, who was shouting at some woman holding a sign with Kurt's face on it.

"…no way he'll get there before you will, you sick, twisted, terrible woman!"

"Is this the same Matt we went to school with?" Finn asked. "I mean, he's, like, talking now."

"And he's a total BAMF!" Puck was laughing. "Look at him go!"

Unfortunately, the WBC started up a chant of "God hates fags" in an attempt to drown Matt out. It worked, too, because Matt's face was steadily turning purple but nobody could hear what he was saying.

"I think it's time for a visual presentation of just what they're protesting," Puck grinned wickedly. Finn didn't hear him, but he certainly got the other man's attention when he grabbed hold of Finn's tie and pulled him down.

"Make out with me," he yelled in Finns ear.

"What?" Finn pulled back automatically. "Why? You're married! And straight! And… stuff."

"So?" Puck reached for Finn's tie again. "It might shut these fuckers up!"

Finn looked conflicted and confused and like he was about five seconds away from bolting, so Puck yanked on the tie, crashing their mouths together. For a few seconds he was the one doing all the work, but eventually Finn gave in and kissed him back.

* * *

"Dear Kurt," Jesse came to a halt in front of his fiancée, hands on his hips. Kurt sighed heavily, knowing that Jesse always talked in letter form when he had a problem.

"Your straight step-brother is getting more guy-on-guy action than me. At my wedding. This is a problem and I expect you to fix it. Love, Jesse."

"What?" Jesse immediately had his attention.

"Come and see," Jesse took his hand and pulled him over to the window. Kurt's jaw dropped when he saw that Finn was indeed out there getting some action from…

"Is that Puck?" Kurt was practically pressing his nose against the glass. "What the hell?"

"That was pretty much my reaction when Rachel told me," Jesse sighed.

"What the _hell_?" Kurt repeated, unwilling to believe that Finn, his step-brother, was really out there making out with Noah Puckerman.

"Okay, it's not that interesting," Jesse had obviously noticed the way Kurt's cheeks were heating up. He tore his eyes away from the sight that really was extremely intriguing, giving his fiancée an innocent smile.

"Give me a break, those two were the most homophobic people imaginable back in pre-glee high school," he linked arms with Jesse, leaning into him. "Besides, you're much prettier than both of them."

"You think I'm pretty?" Jesse sounded offended.

"No," Kurt giggled. "Come on, let's go back in the closet for a minute or two… or ten."

* * *

Burt Hummel is a man with a temper, and when someone gets him upset, it's not pretty. At all. Even the people he's defending normally get scared of him.

So the sight of an enraged Burt Hummel stomping across the street towards them should have made every member of the Westboro Baptist Church cower in fear, then run away.

They were clearly very stupid, because none of them moved.

"Who's in charge here?" Burt demanded, staring down the person nearest, who was a woman in her thirties. She shrunk under his frown, pointing a finger down the line at an older woman. Burt's eyebrows knit together and he went right over to that woman, getting so close they were practically nose-to-nose.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Burt growled at her. The incessant chanting had stopped, and everyone's attention was on Burt and this woman.

"We're protesting the sinful union of two Sodomites," the woman said this matter-of-factly, a pleased smirk on her face.

"What did you just call my son?"

"A Sodomite," the woman's voice was patronizing. "It refers to a person who–"

"I'm aware of the definition of the word," Burt cut her off. "But nobody insults my boy and gets away with it. Now I'm a realist and I get that I can't protect him from everything. He's a grown man, and successful grown man at that, and he can take care of himself. But when I see someone like you out here screaming your ignorance and your hate," he paused, shaking his head and breathing hard, "well, I can't keep quiet about it."

"We're not ignorant," the woman argued. "If you care to talk with us on equal terms and have a real conversation, you'll realize we're quite educated."

"I believe the word you're looking for is brainwashed," Burt interrupted again. "Here, let me ask this one," he gestured to a little boy who couldn't be more than six. The boy shrank back, obviously terrified.

"It's okay," Burt's expression softened and he bent down slightly. "I just want to ask you a question, that's it. I promise. I'm a dad, so trust me, I'm not going to hurt you."

The little boy managed to crack a smile.

"So tell me, son, what does your sign say?"

"God hates fags," the boy didn't even have to look.

"And do you know what that means?" Burt pressed.

"It means God hates fags," the boy repeated. Burt cringed; it was painful, hearing such a hurtful word coming out of a little boy's mouth.

"But why does God hate them?" Burt rephrased the question. "Why are they bad?"

"Because fags are sinner in God's eyes–" the woman Burt had been speaking to cut in, but Burt wouldn't have it. He held up a hand, growling, "Shut up and let the boy speak." The boy in question was looking from the woman to Burt, obviously still scared.

"It's okay," Burt smiled at him. "You can answer the question."

"I don't know," the little boy admitted. "Because they're bad?"

"No, they're not," Burt was speaking quickly, knowing the crowd would probably start chanting again soon. "That's a really bad word you're saying, a really bad word that's meant to hurt people. There's nothing wrong with the people that you're all calling 'fags.' They just want to live their lives in peace and not have to worry about people calling them names."

"Don't listen to him," the woman shouted, and the chanting started up. Burt bent down so he was kneeling on the ground, saying, "Please don't forget what I told you." The little boy looked confused, but he nodded.

"And will the rest of you just shut up!" Burt shouted as he stood up. He grabbed one of the signs nearest to him, yanking it out of the person's hand and throwing it behind him. He started making wild grabs at the signs, trying to get rid of as many as possible.

All of Jesse's crazy fans had started watching and were cheering for him.

"Can't… believe… hate… fuck!" Burt was yelling as he grabbed wildly at the air. One of the men hit him with his sign, catching him on the side of the head. His hand went to the spot immediately, taking a step back and glaring at the crowd.

"Is this what you're teaching your children?" he shouted. "Are you trying to teach them that the world is filled with horrible people and that they should spread as much hate as possible? You're sick! It's just sick, corrupting a child's mind like that!"

"It's the world that's doing the corrupting," the woman shot back. "The world allows sin to go unpunished, and we're trying to warn the world of God's inevitable wrath."

"And what? Not the loving part?" Burt shook his head, disgusted. "Kids! Kids, listen to me! You don't have to do this! You don't have to stand out here holding signs that you don't understand! This is not what your life is supposed to be like!"

A couple of the younger children actually put down their signs. One of the teenagers lowered his, looking intrigued.

"There is a world full of love waiting for you, but you're never going to see it because your parents are idiots who don't understand that. It's no fun having people yell at you because you're holding a sign but you don't know why. Just put the signs down, and people will stop yelling at you."

"Do not give into the temptation the fags offer!" someone yelled. "He'll trick you into following the path to Hell!"

"No I won't," Burt said sadly. "I would never do that to a child. That's what you're doing. You're preaching that gay people and unwed mothers and people having sex out of wedlock are bad, that they're all scary and nasty. Well, I love my son and he's grown into such a wonderful man. And yeah, he's gay, but so what? I love him and I support him no matter what."

The crowd of Jesse's crazies had started chanting, "Spread love not hate!"

"Come on, kids," Burt held out his hands, taking hold of two children when they hesitantly reached out towards him. He actually started walking back towards the building with them, but the crowd went into an uproar before he had even left the sidewalk.

Burt wasn't entirely sure what all happened, but the next thing he knew, a cop had his hands behind his back and was telling him that he needed to leave now or he would have no choice but to arrest him.

He reluctantly followed orders, walking back to the hotel and high-five-ing every single one of Jesse's crazy fans on the way inside.

* * *

"So your step-mother and your best friend had a screaming match with them, your step-brother made out with his best friend in front of them, and your father almost got arrested," Jesse ticked these events off his fingers, laughing at the horrified look on Kurt's face. "And we're not even married yet!" He sat on the bench beside Kurt, laying a hand on his fiancée's leg and saying, "I love your family already."

Kurt shifted in his seat and rested his head on Jesse's shoulder, asking quietly, "Can we get married now? I'd like my dad to be watching from the same room and not a prison cell."

"Half an hour," Jesse checked his watch. "Everyone's already heading in. Thirty more minutes, and we'll be married."

"Good," Kurt linked one of his arms through Jesse's pulling him closer. "I don't want anything else to happen today. I just want to marry you and pretend people aren't outside screaming about how God hates us and how we're going to Hell."

"I know," Jesse pressed a kiss to the top of Kurt's head. "It's going to be o– Burt? What's that kid doing here?"

Kurt sprang to his feet, attention on his father, who was walking towards them with a teenager wearing a T-shirt that said "God hates fags." It was clearly someone from the Westboro Baptist Church, but how he'd gotten in and why Burt was talking to him was Kurt's main concern.

"Dad," his voice was even, but barely. "What the hell?"

"I got one!" Burt exclaimed proudly, grinning. "Kurt, Jesse, this is Micah. Apparently my little speech got to him!"

"Dad," Kurt sighed exasperatedly, "you can't kidnap teenagers either. You have to give him back now."

"No," Micah grabbed hold of Burt's arm, as if hanging on for his life. "Please don't make me go back out there. You're the only person who's actually talked to us kids and offered us a second chance. Please don't make me leave."

"See?" Burt looked from Kurt to Jesse, obviously proud of himself. "I didn't kidnap Micah, he followed me! What do you two say? New step-brother? His family's already disowned him."

Kurt looked from Burt's beaming face to Micah's tearfully optimistic expression and sighed heavily.

"Welcome to the Hummel-Hudson clan, Micah," he said. "Now go find some decent clothes before I rip that shirt off you with my bare hands."

"But save it for later," Jesse added. "We'll do a ceremonial burning or something."

* * *

By the time the dancing at the reception started, it was as if the Westboro Baptist Church had never been there.

Jesse and Kurt were two hopelessly besotted newlyweds who couldn't look away from the other for a second, constantly holding hands and putting their arms around each other and kissing the other regardless of whether he had food in his mouth or not. Burt was so relaxed that his explosion earlier felt like it had been someone else, and Finn was already denying that he had shared so much as a kiss on the cheek with Puck.

The only evidence was the newest addition to their family, Micah, who turned out to be a fantastic dancer. Mike was already teaching him some new moves, which was catching the attention of quite a few of Jesse and Kurt's younger cousins.

But with Jesse quietly singing along to the song they were dancing to, his breath tickling Kurt's neck, it was even becoming difficult to remember where Micah had come from in the first place. Besides, who wants to think about the protestors outside when he's dancing with his gorgeous husband?

The reception ended after every member of New Directions had physically forced Kurt away from Jesse and each got a dance with him. Kurt was almost certain that Rachel had bribed the DJ so he would play quite a few of their old numbers, too. He just counted himself lucky that this wasn't the high school Rachel Berry who wouldn't have been satisfied until she had sung a suitable Barbra Streisand medley.

When he and Jesse left the hotel in a limo with a sign that said "Just Married," Kurt had forgotten all about the WBC. He leaned out the window, waving to Burt and Carole and Finn and all of his friends, strongly aware of the fact that Jesse had an arm around him. They snuggled together as the driver took them back to their place, just reveling in the other's presence.

It had been a beautiful day, protestors or no, and Kurt was thankful that he had such wonderful friends and family to share it with.

Well, Jesse too, but that goes without saying.


End file.
